


The Exiled

by SargeantWoof



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Demigods in Hogwarts, F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, The Trials of Apollo Spoilers, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:37:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SargeantWoof/pseuds/SargeantWoof
Summary: In the middle of a new prophecy, nine demigods, fall back in time into the summer of 1995 right after the Triwizard Tournament. Alongside the Golden Trio, the demigods must fight for survival and escape Voldemort at all costs, in order to find the future again.





	1. So You Feel Entitled To A Sense of Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crossover begins - Hermione and the Twins have tricks up their sleeves.

"Let it be known," Professor Dumbledore spoke, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet. "That Cedric Diggory was killed by Voldemort." The name silenced the last dregs of conversations. He paused for a moment, letting his eyes drag through the hall. "We have come this far, made it through the last few years. We shall not falter in the face of fear." He paused again, "So, a toast, in memory, for Cedric." He raised his goblet and the rest of the hall followed. "To Cedric."  

 

"Cedric," the rest of the hall echoed. 

 

"Now," Professor Dumbledore set his goblet down onto the table, "life is not one to stop…" he trailed off, frowning at rafters of the hall. Heads swiveled and people began to point and murmur as an owl swooped down from the ceiling. Dumbledore exchanged a look with Professor McGonagall as the owl landed in front of him. He reached out, offering the owl a handful of treats, and gently untying the letter. He scanned it quickly, frowning at the contents, before duplicating the letter with a murmured, " _genimio"_. He handed one to each Head of the Houses and raised his hands for silence. 

 

"There is an emergency at the Ministry." At his words, the conversation swelled. He clapped his hands for silence and waited a beat for the students to comply. "It was not an attack." He breathed in once, nodded to Hogwarts, and disappeared.  

 

"Everyone to your common room," McGonagall shouted to be heard over the din of all the students talking. "The feast will be served there." People began to get up, clumping together in groups as if Voldemort would spring from the shadows and attack if they were alone. The professors waited until the hall had cleared before another uttered a sound.  

 

"What was it?" Professor Sinistra asked, frowning at the empty hall. The candle lights had dimmed, responding to the mass exodus of the children. It had never looked so barren, with the absence of the students so clear.  

 

Professor McGonagall sighed, "The letter did not say. However," she paused, her eyes flicking around the hall. She eyed the corner of the room where a lone Hogwarts tapestry was touching the ground. "We'll finish this conversation in the staff room. One hour. Check on your students." She rose sweeping from the hall. With an absentminded flick of her wand, she righted the tapestry, pretending not to hear the sudden inhale from one of the Weasley twins. "You have five minutes before I dock points," she murmured, giving them a moment to escape as she turned to survey the rest of the hall. She nodded to the rest of the staff and headed for the Gryffindor tower.  

 

"I suppose that's our cue," Professor Flitwick, said, stretching from his chair and hopping down to the floor. He strode out of the hall, casting  _aparecium_  on the letter as he left.  

 

"Indeed," Professor Snape said, frowning at the letter in his hand. "Aurora, would you like to accompany me to the common room to help?" She nodded, rising as he did. They stepped down the dais together, Aurora keeping close in order to read the letter over his shoulder. 

 

Professor Sprout sighed, pulling her hair down from its tight bun and massaging her temples for a moment before redoing her bun and leaving the hall. The rest of the staff members looked at each other and rose as well, heading for the staff chamber.  

 

*** 

 

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry was huddled in a corner surround by the Weasleys, Hermione, and Neville. Even the warmth of the fires couldn't penetrate the tense undertone that was obvious within the room. People started talking and would abruptly stop, staring at the flames as though they had the answers to the universe.  

 

Neville anxiously fiddled with a stem of gillyweed he had found in his pocket, as Hermione bent over a book. Her eyes were completely still, the only piece that gave away that she wasn't reading. Harry absentmindedly pet Crookshanks as he tilted his head back, taking in the ceiling of the room. The three of them were silent, blocking out the low murmurs of Ron and Ginny playing a half-hearted game of Wizards Chess. The door swung open, silencing the entire room.  

 

Fred and George slid in, making their way towards the five. The door slammed shut, echoing throughout. No one moved or breathed, taking in the lack of a smile on the twin's face and the steady way that they strode through the room. The two said nothing, sitting down on either side of Hermione, who handed them each a sheet of paper. Ron and Ginny frowned at the sight.  

 

"Hermione," Harry said, lifting his head up to watch the three of them. "What-" He cut himself off, as the door swung open once more.  

 

Professor McGonagall entered, each sharp click of her heel winding the tension up. She came to a stop at the entrance of the common room, her eyes lingering on the twins and Hermione, who had her head down. "Professor Dumbledore has been taken from the school due to an incident at the Ministry." She paused, her eyes taking in the ways the younger students clasped hands and shuffled closer together as they braced themselves for bad news. "There was no confirmation as to when he would return. For now, assume that was the last time you will see him until the beginning of next year." She breathed in once sharply. "It had no hallmarks of an attack from Voldemort. I will, however, inform you that the seal of the letter had a mark of the Unspeakables, as I am certain that that will get out regardless." The room erupted into chatter, as she marched over to Hermione and the twins. "You three with me."  

 

"But Professor-" Ron protested, his hand reaching out to touch Hermione's shoulder before dropping back to his side. 

 

"No," McGonagall said. "They must come with me." She looked around the room once before leaning closer into their huddled group. "You must stay here. Keep watch. Do not let anyone leave. If someone must find me, use the map and the cloak, Mr. Potter." She said, making eye contact with him and ignoring his look of surprise. "These three must come with me. Food will be dropped off shortly. Do not leave this tower." 

 

"But-" Ron began again.  

 

"It's fine, Ron," Hermione said quietly, her bag in her hand. "Don't worry. We'll be together." Ron subsided with a small nod, as Harry reached out and squeezed her hand. Neville patted her on the back and she frowned at all of them. "I'm going to see you all on the express. Stop looking so sad."  

 

"Ms. Granger," McGonagall said, looking at her watch. "The three of you must be going."  

 

"We'll be fine," George assured the group.  

  
   
"Blimey," Fred said. "It's almost as though you don't trust us."  

 

Ginny arched an eyebrow. "We don't."  

 

"Oi!" They said together. Hermione rolled her eyes and got to her feet. The twins followed her and Professor McGonagall as they left the common room. Fred winked at Harry as they left.  

 

As soon as the door shut behind the three of them, the room got quiet once again. Harry sighed, getting to his feet and standing on the coffee table in front of his couch. "Listen up. Professor McGonagall doesn't want anyone leaving just yet."  

 

"Really?" Lee asked, "Why did Fred and George and Granger get to leave then."  

 

"Oi," Ron said standing up. "Watch it Jordan." Lee rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to respond but Harry interrupted.  

 

"We don't know where they went." He shrugged. "I don't think we'll know 'til they return tomorrow." He stepped down from the table. "McGonagall also said that food would be arriving-" A loud clatter interrupted him as food appeared on the tables scattered throughout the room. "-now." He finished quietly, sitting back down on the couch as the chatter from earlier resumed.  

 

"It'll be fine," Neville said, suddenly. "It's Hermione and the twins after all." He got up, heading for their room, ignoring Dean and Seamus' gestures to sit with them. 

 

Ron nodded, grabbing a plate of food. "Neville's right. They’ll be fine Harry, don't worry about it."  

 

"I hope so," Harry said, frowning at the entrance of the common room. "I really, really hope so." 

 

*** 

 

The four of them marched down a hallway silently. Hermione was sandwiched between the twins, taking comfort in their steady presence. Professor McGonagall stopped suddenly, bringing the four of them to an abrupt halt. She cast a glance up and down the hallway before casting  _muffliato_. 

 

"Ms. Granger, I am aware of what you've done for these two." She sniffed. "I must say I am quite surprised that you'd invest so much of your time into something so fanciful."  

 

"She's not done one thing!" Fred protested.  

 

"Yeah!" George added. "Not a single bloody thing."  

 

"Professor," Hermione said, clasping her hands together gently. "They may use their brains for pranks and jinx's but it is still such remarkable magic."  

 

Professor McGonagall inclined her head. "That it may be," she paused, "But that is not why I have brought you three out here." She turned to the twins. "I must ask that you not speak of the worry and fear that the staff displayed. The students are too worried already."  

 

Fred and George nodded as one. "We wouldn't-" they began. "It's not funny to the little ones when their headmaster gets whisked away and someone has died." 

 

"'Sides," George finished. "There aren't even good jokes to make." McGonagall stared at him. He amended his statement, "Not that we would!" 

 

She measured them a little bit more before nodding once, sharply. "Off to the common room with you then." 

 

"What about 'Mione?" Fred asked. Frowning at the look the two exchanged. "Oi! How do you already know so much about this?"  

 

Hermione sighed. "I guessed."  

 

McGonagall sniffed. "Mr. and Mr. Weasley. Go." The two exchanged a look, jogging backward slowly.  

 

"You sure?" Fred called, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't in danger of running into a suit of armor. 

 

"We can stay?" George offered, stumbling over the edge of his robe but remaining on his feet. "It's no problem."  The two of them paused for a moment waiting for Professor McGonagall or Hermione to call them back. When no voice came after them, they shrugged in unison, before turning and racing away.  

 

McGonagall sighed through her nose. "Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington," she summoned, waiting a moment before Nearly Headless Nick floated through the floors. "Follow them."  

 

He inclined his head, waiting for a shocked gasp as his head tipped off and dangled from his neck. Professor McGonagall merely sighed again. "No one appreciates the arts these days," Nick muttered to himself as he drifted through a wall. "Unbelievable."  

 

She turned to look at Hermione. "Now Ms. Granger, just what do you think you know?"  

 

Hermione frowned at the ground, clearly gathering her thoughts together. McGonagall pinched the bridge of her nose and resisted the urge to snap at her. "Well," She finally began after a minute of silence. "I'm assuming it has something to do with the fact that either, 1, I'm a muggleborn or, 2, I've experienced something no one else has."  

 

McGonagall raised her eyebrow. "That's quite a claim to make, Ms. Granger."  

 

Hermione blushed, shaking out her hair. "And," she mumbled, "the twins and I were testing new listening devices, like from James Bond." At Professor McGonagall's blank look, she blushed even more fiercely. "James Bond is a spy for the-"  

 

McGonagall cut her off. "I know who James Bond is." 

 

"Well, they had the device on them, when they were-" Hermione cut herself off. "Anyways, one of them managed to use another device to scan your document that Headmaster Dumbledore gave you, and they handed it to me right before you came in. I wasn't able to read much but I did read one thing- time travel." 

 

*** 

 

Outside the castle, things began stirring, sensing a magic that had not been seen within the magical community for thousands of years. Within the lakes and forests, spirits awoke, startling those who already lived within. 

 

Inside the Ministry, corridors that were normally empty at this time of night were filled with light. Loud voices echoed in the hallways outside of the room but within, people spoke with whispers. Dumbledore stood to the side, next to the Minister, Cornelius Fudge, the DMLE head, Amelia Bones, and the head of Unspeakables, Bernard Croaker. 

 

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, studying the proceedings very carefully.  

 

"If we knew that we wouldn't have called you, now would we have, Dumbledore." Fudge said, spinning his bowler hat around his hand anxiously.  

 

"Now, now, Minister." Croaker cautioned. "We sort of know what happened." 

 

"We do?" Bones asked, arching an eyebrow.  

 

"Well, of course, Madam Bones." Croaker responded gesturing. "They came through that veil." 

 

The four of them turned to face the Whispering Veil. Dumbledore frowned, "Could it be dark magic?"  

 

"That's the thing, Headmaster." Croaker answered. "We can't get a handle on their magic at all." 

 

"What?" Bones said, tilting her head. "How is that possible?" 

 

Croaker shrugged. "It's like our spells can't get a grasp on the magic that they do have."  

 

"So they do have magic?" Fudge rubbed his hands over his face.  

 

"Yes," Croaker said. "But they also have those wisps of time all over them."  

 

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I read that in your note. What exactly does that mean?"  

 

"Well," Croaker began. "Time is a stream. It never really falters in the face of issues, it simply splits and continues. When a time turner is used, and the reason why it is such a heavily guarded piece of magic, it momentarily forces the time to surge against itself. The power in the time turner lets it go back, but it also steals small bits of life when it is turned. So, going back an hour or two, or even potentially say, a whole day, would do small damage to the person who's spinning the turner. But if someone were to attempt to use it for more than a day, and even then, a day would truly be pushing it, they would sacrifice their life." 

 

"Yes, yes, we know all this." Fudge spluttered. "But what does this have to do with these children?"  

 

Croaker blinked once before continuing, causing Fudge to blush and fall silent. "Due to the fact that time can split, there are other realities." He held up a hand to forestall any questions from Fudge. "This is not the first time someone has come through this veil. However, this is the first time so many have come through, and also the first time that they've been alive."  

 

"Well, I'd never-" Fudge muttered under his breath. "Keeping secrets from me- ha!"  

 

Madam Bones stared at him before focusing back on Croaker. "What does that mean?"  

 

"We think it means that they have some sort of magic, although some of the others who've come through have had small traces on them." Croaker shook his head. "These all have different magics touching them."  

 

"Different magics?" Fudge asked, scowling at the ground. "Bah - what kind of different magic?" 

 

"Elemental magic, love magic, and another magic that has no name, one that we've never seen before."  

 

"No name magic?" Fudge whispered, paling. He sneered when no one answered him and looked away from the group. 

 

"Elemental magic?" Dumbledore questioned, peering closer at the kids on the ground. "Which kinds?"  

 

"Headmaster, you know as well as I that there is no way to tell until they wake up." Croaker reprimanded. "To suggest to do so would be a violation of their rights."  

 

"Do so anyway." Fudge commanded. "They have no rights on our land."  

 

"Minister." Bones narrowed her eyes. "I sincerely hope you're not suggesting that we draw blood and take experiment on it to only fuel our curiosity into who or what they are. Provoking them is not a way to go. And," she gestured around the chamber. "they're only children." 

 

"Only children?" Fudge spluttered. "They have no-name-magic! That's impossible! We know all the magics, or we should," he continued in an undertone before regaining his strident tone. "I will not have it!"  

 

"Minister-" Croaker began. "I cannot-"  

 

"I do not think you will have long to wait," Dumbledore interrupted, "It appears they are awakening."  

 

*** 

 

"Bloody hell," one of the Unspeakables whispered. One of the kids was blinking awake. "Hey, hey," He continued. "You're okay, you're okay."  

 

The kids' green eyes locked onto his face. "Annabeth," he whispered. The pools of water that had come through the veil with them slowly began to rise. "Who are you?"  

 

"Stay calm," the Unspeakable instructed. "We're not here to hurt you." The boy blinked twice before nodding and letting the tension bleed out of him. 'Thank god' the Unspeakable thought, missing the way the boy's hands fell into the water. "Sir?" He said, turning to Croaker. "This one-" He cut himself off.  

 

The water which had been resting on the ground had surrounded each and every Unspeakable which was tending to a person who had come through the veil. Croaker had stepped forward, raising his hands in an unthreatening manner and the water had left him alone. Fudge, however, had brandished his wand as soon as the water began to move and was currently frozen to the ground. Behind him, Dumbledore and Bones had both raised their hands.  

 

The Unspeakable felt movement behind him and turned to see the boy getting to his feet. "Now," He said, his eyes flashing dangerously, "Tell me just who the Hades you are." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This theory I've had in my head for... at least a year. 
> 
> Let me know if y'all like it. I know it's a lot. I have no idea where this motivation to do this came from but hey... here we are. 
> 
> Songs of the chapter: White Teeth Teens by Lorde/ R.I.P 2 My Youth by The Neighborhood


	2. Don’t Nobody Know My Troubles But God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy Jackson and Co begin their quest. It is not fun for a single person.

"We have to what?" Percy asked, furrowing his brows at Mr. D. and Chiron. "Why now?" The group of demigods shifted behind him. He glanced back at them before turning an expectant face to Mr. D and Chiron.   
 

Chiron frowned. "Percy, I wish I could say." Percy snorted and shrugged at the glare Mr. D gave him. Chiron ignored the two of them and continued on. "I don't know what the prophecy said."

 

At that, the group behind Percy shifted again, letting Annabeth push her way through. "Sir? How could you not know what the prophecy said but still know that you need us?" Her gray eyes narrowed at her favorite teacher as she watched him. She reached out her hand and gently unrolled Percy's hand from the fist it had formed. "Sir?" She repeated when Chiron didn't answer her immediately.

 

Chiron's tale twitched before he answered. "No one knows the prophecy. Ms. Dare stumbled to the Big House last night, completely incoherent, rambling about a prophecy." Chiron's eyes caught on Will, standing next to Nico in the bigger group. "When she came to, the only thing she would say about it was your names."

 

"Then how in Hades are we supposed to know where to go then?" Clarisse asked, ignoring Nico's low _watch it_. She rolled her eyes at the looks tossed her way. "I'm only thinking logically here. Don’t act like I want to do this."

 

"No," Annabeth sighed. "What Clarisse asked is a good question. How are we supposed to know?"

 

Chiron outwardly looked uncomfortable for the first time since he had called them all to the pavilion. "Ah, well. Let me rephrase. She wouldn't tell me, anything about the prophecy. She only told me your names. She did, however, mention that she would tell you all today. In private." Chiron's eyes flickered to each demigod in the group. He ignored Will's sudden frown. "She should be ready for you-" he glanced at his watch. "Now."

 

For a long moment, no one moved. The wind swirled around each of them, bringing a chill into the warm air. Percy steadily gazed at the two leaders of the camp, waiting for something, Annabeth's hand gripping his tighter and tighter, with every silent moment that passed. Eventually, the silence was broken by Mr. D unexpectedly getting to his feet.

 

"Come on," He said gruffly, "I'll walk you."

 

Chiron skittered backward, the sharp clop of his hooves against the concrete echoing like a gunshot. "Mr. D! I hardly think this is-"

 

Mr. D raised his hand. "I'll walk them, Chiron." He beckoned at Percy. "Let's go Jackson."

 

With a slow nod, Percy fell into step beside the God. The rest of the demigods fell in step behind them. None of them turned around as they left, focusing instead on their chosen leader and the God of Madness.

 

***

_6 months ago_

 

The fire burned brighter than Piper had ever seen it. People were laughing, shouting. The tinge of fear that had swallowed the camp throughout the Giant War was completely gone. It took her breath away. She wanted so desperately to join in, to find comfort in the familiar faces and the songs. She wanted to nestle herself in the warmth and safety of camp, leaving the harsh realities of the real world far behind her.

 

Instead, she turned her back on the cheerful people and made her way to the cold beach. Those who she sought would be found in the dark, near enough to see the light, but not close enough to feel the warmth. She slogged through the weeds, letting herself get tiny slices and cuts on her legs as she ignored the path. She shut her eyes, letting her memories be the guide.

 

In her mind, she could see him. See Jason. He was laughing, tugging her over the hill, cajoling her to _just close your eyes Pipes. C'mon, it'll be a surprise._ She could feel the weight on her arm, the firm clasp of his hand over hers. His glasses reflected the skies, the sunny day fading into a vibrant sunset. The orange in the sky turned his hair red, making him look ridiculous. She crested the hill, feeling the wind in her hair, her smile spreading across her face as Jason leaned in and -she stumbled over a log, slamming into a body.

 

"Piper?" Percy's face swam over hers. "Are you okay?" She took a moment before answering, watching his face change from surprise to concern.

 

"I-" She paused, letting herself feel the cool sand underneath her. She cleared her throat. "I-" Annabeth appeared in her view as well, the familiar blonde a balm against her frazzled nerves. "Jasonsdead." She blurted and burst into tears. As she cried, she was slowly coaxed into a sitting position, leaning on Percy's shoulder as Annabeth sat in front of her.

 

"Jason's dead." She moaned. "He's dead, gone, over, and I couldn't do anything." Her hand tightened into a fist and she punched the ground. "He died protecting me and now I'm here and he's dead and I want to _murder him_." She swallowed air, hiccupping in between her tears. "He- Apollo- he couldn't do anything." She thumped the ground again. "We couldn't do ANYTHING," she shrieked, before falling silent.

 

A few quiet moments passed, where no one moved. Piper sighed, her tears slowing, eventually relaxing even more to slump onto Percy's shoulder. "I just- why?" She asked, quietly, reaching her hand out to Annabeth in a silent plea for support. "Why did it have to be him? Why couldn't it have been me?"

 

"That's a question we all ask, eventually," Percy murmured into her ear, sliding his arm around her to support her better. "Why couldn't it have been me?" Piper sniffled as Percy continued. "It just wasn't. That's the burden we get for continuing." He opened his mouth to continue before shutting it abruptly at Piper's look. He paused for a moment, looking out over the sea instead of at her tear stained face. "I'm not saying – it's hard." His voice cracked, a tear sliding down his face. "What you just said, the news you've carried here... it's a lot. It's – Fuck!" He broke off, the sound of waves accelerating as he grew more and more distraught.

 

"Hey," Annabeth cut in, her quiet voice a contrast to Percy's heaving breaths. "Hey," she said again, even quieter, as If her last _hey_ had been shouted and disturbed something fragile. "You'll get through this. It's going to be hard," she said, sucking in a ragged breath. "I'm not- I'm not going to lie. You're going to hurt for a long time." She exchanged a glance with Percy, something dark in their eyes. "Like Percy said, it's a burden." She paused, looking out over the water, the slowly calming sea. "You don't ever forget it," she murmured, closing her eyes. "You just don't."

 

***

 

They were quiet as they moved through the camp. None of them were children, exactly. They all bore the marks of war, the eternal scratches on their souls that even bathing in the Lethe couldn't quite wash out. Occasionally Dionysus would think he saw flashes of people long since dead in their gazes.

 

He remembered, better than anyone, better than any of the Gods. He was the one forced to see it in their children, forced to face his past day by day. After the years, and his various punishments which always ended with him back in the camp, he knew a new soul when he saw one.

 

Perseus Jackson was one such new soul. It was not often that the Gods accepted change, but Percy had been unrelenting in his quest for the Gods to be better. Before the boy had come along, Dionysus would have laughed at the concept of the Gods changing. The Gods didn't change. They couldn't. They had no tethers to the mortal world, aside from their children, and most of the time, those were ignored too.

 

Zeus had made it clear, long ago, before the birth of America, that the children they had were fleeting fancies, tiny blips in their eternal passage. That in the end, they didn't _matter._ And for years, centuries, millennium really, Dionysus had swallowed that lie.

 

He had ignored the twinges in his heart, ignore the small tears in his soul as he watched his sons and daughters fight for their entire life, and die, in the end. Even when he was trapped at camp, Dionysus had ignored his sons for the most part. They had not wanted much, had not sought him out aside from a few times at the beginning. His complete and total willingness to disregard them, as if they did not hold anything of worth to him, was his undoing in the end.

 

There were few moments that he knew he would remember for the rest of his long existence. The day he spoke to Perseus, at that small dingy arcade, was one of those days. He couldn't remember the last time he had allowed himself to feel and show genuine emotion in front of one of the children. He supposed it was... eons ago.

 

At the small clearing of a throat, Dionysus looked up, making eye contact with Percy. The tall demigod pressed his lips together, before turning and jerking his head at the rest of the group. They split, parting around the two, heading into the Oracle's cave.

 

The only one who stayed behind was Annabeth Chase. Dionysus had known, had _known_ , that the two would be trouble from the moment they met. Daughters of Athena and Sons of Poseidon are trouble enough on their own, but the concept of them getting along made them exceedingly dangerous.

 

"This is something," He paused, frowning at the two, before beginning again. "Something is not right, with this." He shook his head. "Apollo is not yet healed- not yet whole. Prophecies do not make themselves." He made eye contact with them. "Listen to your instincts. Chiron would not- I am not supposed to interfere." He rolled his head, cracking his neck. "And yet-" He cut himself off again. The three stood in silence for a moment. "I have said too much, but not enough." He turned, ready to go, ready to be done with those who demanded he be better.

 

"Mr. D," Annabeth said. "Thank you." Percy nodded beside her, his eyes a stormy green. Mr. D couldn't remember the last time he had seen the boy laugh loudly. They were not healed, could potentially never heal, and here the Gods were, demanding more from them. It made him ache in his bones.

 

He shook his head at them. "No," he said, giving them a small smile. "Thank you."

 

***

_2 Nights Ago_

 

Rachel awoke, panting. It was the same dream, again. She had no memory of what she was seeing each night, what she had seen each night since the ides of March. Since that night, she had woken in tears, or in the throes of a scream, or sweaty and desperate.

 

The only thing that registered with her, the only thing that stuck with her into the light of day, was the heavy and present fear. _Someone is going to die._

 

But recently, the fear was weightier than that. It felt as though more than one future, more than one potential was battering at her mind. As unwelcome as the sensation was, she couldn't help but embrace it. For months, after Apollo had fallen, her mind had been empty of the sensation of what was to come. She had no gifts. She felt hollow as if she was nothing without the formidable spirit awake inside her.

 

Since March, however, she had fallen asleep and dreamed of death and destruction. In the beginning, there had only been small twinges which came to her during the day. She had started feeling wary, glancing over her shoulder at nothing, tracking small sounds instead of paying attention in class.

 

Her roommate, Holly, had become increasingly concerned, going so far as to tell one of the hall monitors that she was afraid for Rachel's safety. Rachel had played it off, told stories of watching horror films illicitly, causing her to earn lunch detention. She had started avoiding Holly, started counting down the days until she could escape to Camp.

 

When she arrived though, it was with little fanfare. She had hidden herself away, only feeling safe in the sun inside her cave. When she was in the sun, though, her sense of danger faded, and the future seemed further away. She struggled to understand what Apollo was telling her. Was he telling her not to worry? Was he telling her to trust him? Was he saying something more dangerous – was the future not to be told?

 

She paced within her caves, picking up charcoal and paint, anxiously trying to present something, anything other than fear. She wanted to go to Chiron, wanted to seek out a mentor who could reassure her. Instead, she remained in her cave, with her standing request that she not be disturbed.  The last two weeks had passed with no guests, just herself and her mind.

 

But tonight, tonight when she woke up, something was different. The dreams she had were more present in her mind. She was able to actually remember flashes of the dream. The color red tinged every piece of it. There was a wide sky, grey stones, maybe?

 

She got up, stumbling over to her piles of blank canvas'. She grabbed the first one, throwing it onto her easel, paying no attention to how it sat, just consumed with the need to finally, finally, put something concrete onto the page.

 

She began painting, closing her eyes, letting her arm sketch out what it needed to draw. She kept her eyes closed for over an hour, ignoring the burning of her right arm. As the sun began to appear behind her closed eyes, she let her arm drop. The sudden change in movement caused a sharp pain to shoot through her body.

 

"Di Immortals," She whispered, as she looked at the painting, the sight immediately causing her to forget her pain. The eerie sight was terrifying.

 

Her canvas was backward, with the painting inside warning of something she had never seen before. Stonehenge featured, with an array of people around it. The sky was lit up bright red, the color mixing with the blue. In the corner, a flying chariot appeared in the sky, the drivers face unintelligible. The red of the sky was also splashed across the ground and the figures. She couldn't tell what the red was - whether it was blood or just the tinge of the sky.

 

The worst part of the entire piece was the menacing black eyes that were larger than the people, looming over Stonehenge. She paused, staring at the painting, getting lost in the eyes. 

 

She shook herself out of her revere, hours later. She glanced outside and froze. It was pitch black - had she lost the entire day to looking at her painting?

 

A noise outside her caves had her cautiously creeping forward. She gripped her paintbrush, the dried red tip her only weapon. _I won't be hurt_ , she reminded herself. _I took on Kronos with a hairbrush._

 

She slid her curtain to the side, calling out, "Hello?" A figure slowly neared, causing Rachel to drop her paintbrush as she recognized the figure. "Ella?" The harpy shook her head, mouthing something at her. Rachel took a step closer, "Ella?" She asked. "What are you-"

  
A sharp blow to her head, sent her toppling to the ground. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the sight of Ella in chains, a slash on her arm, and a pair of deep black eyes.

 

***

 

Will entered the cave, feeling the most comfortable in the oracle's home. "Rachel?" He called, pausing at the sight of her empty living room. He peeked into her kitchen and bathroom, before pausing at her bedroom. He knocked once, to no answer. "Rachel?" He called again, turning her doorknob. "I'm coming in."

 

There was no answer. He stuck his head in, taking in her empty room before turning and heading back to her living room. He paused, eyeing an easel covered in a black sheet. "Hey, guys?" He called. "We have a problem."

 

The rest of the group funneled in, Nico immediately stepping to his side. "What happened?"

 

"I don't know," Will said. "She's not here though, and instead there's this easel." He reached out, feeling the texture of the black sheet. It was thick, almost like a black sheepskin. He frowned at it, tugging it down, ignoring Frank's startled _hey,_ before realizing what it was.

 

"Holy shit-" he cut himself off, abruptly letting go of the skin. The cave stilled completely. It wasn't a sheepskin - it was a satyr's legs, hooves attached and all. Hazel gasped, spinning to turn away as soon as she realized what it was.

 

"That's not- that's not possible." Leo choked out. "that's not- they can't - they turn to dust for Christ's sake." He turned away, breathing hard.

  
Clarisse nodded but strode forward - kneeling next to the legs. She felt the legs, frowning. "It's not real."

 

"It's not real?" Nico said. "Why would someone go through all that trouble?" The group exchanged uneasy looks, as Percy and Annabeth came through the door.

 

"Where's Rachel?" He asked, frowning at them.

 

"We don't know," Hazel said, peering at him from beside Frank. "But someone left us a pair of fake satyr legs."

 

"What?" Percy said flatly. "Who the hell-"

 

Annabeth nudged him with her elbow and he shut up. "I think we have bigger issues." Everyone looked at her, she nodded toward the easel. "I think whoever did this, also did that." Sitting on the easel was the painting that Rachel had made two nights ago. Dangling under the easel was her paintbrush, coated in red. Underneath all of that was a note attached to a box.

 

Annabeth strode forward, picking up the note and reading it aloud. " _Meet at Stonehenge or she dies. Every day you're late - she loses a finger_." She lowered the note. "What the hell does-" She cut herself off, spinning around and picking up the box. She visibly braced herself and opened the container.

 

"Fuck me." She swore, shutting the box with a sharp click. "Let's go - we need to see Chiron. Now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is a lot - it's going to be violent and bloody and they're all going to suffer - sorry!
> 
> I have no real idea about an update schedule. This is coming as it comes and I'll be posting accordingly 
> 
> Let me know what y'all think!


	3. Cause This House Of Mine Stands Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one knows what is happening - least of all Professor McGonagall, and she is _furious_ about it.

The room stood still. The water hovered in the air, slowly easing in between the Unspeakables and the demigods. With every moment that passed without an answer, Percy's eyes grew more and more unreadable. His gaze flickered around the room, checking on each of the demigods with him, before coming to rest on Dumbledore, Bones, and Croaker. "Who's in charge here?" he asked gruffly, taking in the amazement on their faces as the water gently brought each of the teens closer to him.

 

"Technically," Croaker answered, breaking the standoff. "He is." He pointed to Fudge, who was still frozen in the water.

 

Percy snorted. "He's not very good at his job." Behind him, a girl stirred, causing the rest of the room's eyes to snap to her. Percy, however, didn’t even glance, keeping his eyes on the three adults.

  
Croaker opened his mouth to respond but paused as the girl swore behind Percy. "Fuck, Jackson." Clarisse rose to her feet unsteadily, pulling her dagger from her belt. "What's happening now?"

 

"I don't know," Percy muttered. "I just woke up to threats."

 

She snorted. "Figures." She glanced around, taking in the water, before crouching back down and checking on everyone's pulse. The room remained stagnant as she remained there, the only movement the slow trickle of water as it pulled those trusted closer to Percy.

 

She stood back up, eyeing the others in the room, slipping into Greek. "Είναι εντάξει, όσο μπορώ να πω. Δεν υπάρχουν εξωτερικά σημάδια." At her words, the others in the room stiffened, as if waiting for a blow. She watched the oldest man's eyes flicker down to her empty left hand before meeting her eyes. She cocked her head, lowering her hand to her knife holster on her ankle as she watched his hand tense on the strip of wood he was holding.

 

A sound behind her caught her attention as she brought her second knife out. She trusted Percy to watch her back as she spun around. Reyna blinked twice at her before sitting up abruptly. Though she didn't make a sound, Clarisse caught the pain in her eyes as she stood slowly.

 

Reyna cast her gaze around the room, taking in the array of figures and the water holding them hostage. She looked upwards, taking in the sight of high and dark stone ceilings, before looking behind her. A strange arch stood a yard away, the ribbons hanging in it fluttering in a non-existent breeze. Ignoring that, she looked more closely at those standing in front of her. "Di immortales," she swore, causing her companions to tense up. "Wizards."

 

***

 

"Professor?" Hermione asked gently. "Was I wrong?" She resisted the urge to tug on her curls, instead fiddling with the strap on her bag.

 

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "No," she paused. "Well, you didn't so much as Messrs. Weasleys." She sighed. "Time travel is part of the reason why you were pulled from the common room." Hermione flinched. "Ms. Granger, I know."

 

"Oh." Hermione blushed, the red on her cheeks becoming even more pronounced as the rest of her face paled drastically. "How did you-" She cut herself off before she could embarrass herself further.

 

"It was never turned into me at the end of the third year, Ms. Granger. When I asked Headmaster Dumbledore about the turner, he assured me he had taken care of it." McGonagall pressed her lips together. "I knew then that you had kept it."

 

"I- that is to say-" Hermione began before giving up. "Professor, I am so-"

 

McGonagall held up her hand, and Hermione fell silent "There is a reason I did not immediately confiscate it from you." She tilted her head down, eyeing Hermione over the rim of her glasses. "Of all the students in the school, Ms. Granger, I trusted that you would use it correctly." She raised an eyebrow at the shocked look on Hermione's face. "I know that of the three of you, you are most often the one getting them through their troubles and spells." Hermione ducked her head at the almost-praise. McGonagall's face turned stern. "However, that does not excuse the fact that you are allowing your life force to be taken every time you use it."

 

Hermione froze, her mouth open for a moment before she snapped it shut. "Professor - I'm afraid I don't quite know what you're referring to?"

 

"Come now, Ms. Granger," McGonagall's mouth pressed into a thin line. "This is no time for jokes. You have become more sluggish on occasion when you have used the time turner, at least on the days that I have observed it."

 

"I-" Hermione frowned. "It's not often that I used the timer turner this year." She paused, a strange look coming across her face. "I also am still uncertain about the life force part."

 

McGonagall froze. "There is paperwork that must be filled out at the beginning of the use of the time turner. Within the pages, there is an outline of the dangers which accompany its use. You never filled it out?"

 

"No?" Hermione answered, a frightened look stealing across her face. She shivered, pulling her sweater sleeves down over her hands. "I had no paperwork. I just received the time turner on my bed after speaking with you about my class schedule. I knew what it was and how to use it due to reading about it the book _Elemental Magic: The Basics of Time_." She scuffed her foot on the ground. "I also just did some guesswork and random attempts."

 

"Ms. Granger!" McGonagall exclaimed. "The amount of danger you brushed against is unfathomable. You must hand over the time turner immediately." Hermione nodded, unclasping the time turner from around her neck, her eyes filling with tears. McGonagall sighed. "Child, it is not you who I am upset with."

 

Hermione blinked uncertainly at her. McGonagall closed her eyes for a moment before pinching the bridge of her nose. "The real reason I called you out of the common room was to confiscate this, as the time travel which has happened will probably call for an even greater lockdown on time magic." She pursed her lips. "This reveal of danger wasn't supposed to happen, as you were supposed to know already." She sighed again. "Find Messrs. Weasleys when you return to the common room. They will be able to help you."

 

Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving her favorite teachers face. In a rare gesture of affection, Professor McGonagall cupped her hands around Hermione's face. "Though the danger was great, I cannot ignore how proud I am of you for navigating time's perils relatively safely." She brushed her thumbs under Hermione's eyes, smoothing away the tense lines that lingered before dropping her hands. "Please return to the common room, Ms. Granger."

 

Hermione nodded, turning away to walk the long and cold distance to the boisterous room alone.

 

***

 

Neville sighed, studying the stars for a long moment. Below him, the common room had quickly become rowdy, the anxiety his housemates felt leading them to become even more aggressive than usual. At the sound of wood breaking and a yell, he rolled his eyes. Subtle in their distress, Gryffindors were not.

 

He shifted closer to the window, rolling his shoulders back. Ever since the letter, though really, if he was being honest, about an hour before the end of year feast, he had been feeling restless. He had an itch under his skin and he felt like he had taken a double dosage of Pepper-Up.

 

He frowned, glancing around the empty dorm, before going back to staring out the window. The fourth-year dorm faced the Forbidden Forest and he could see the western bank of the lake. As he watched, absently flicking his gaze from the stars to the trees, a sudden movement in the trees caught his eyes. _Amplio_ , he cast, waving his wand at his eyes.

 

With his improved eyesight, he could see the actual forest as if he were only a few yards away. "Merlin," he bit out, jerking backward in surprise, as a woman melted out of a tree and skipped away. "How-" he cut himself off, slowly casting his gaze on the other trees, watching in amazement as three more melted out of trees.

 

So focused on trees, he missed the movement in the water, as two women appeared on the banks, and slipped slowly into the water. Above the trees, there was a minute shift in the stars, a brief moment of time where the whole sky seemed to tilt off kilter.

 

Still, Neville remained unaware, watching the shadow figures of the tree-women slip through the forest as best he could. He stayed at the window, only looking away at the entrance of Dean and Seamus. They mumbled greetings, which he returned before looking back out the window. As the sky began to brighten, he finally slipped back into bed, realizing as he fell asleep that Harry and Ron had never returned that night.

 

***

 

"Wizards?" Percy echoed. "What like abracadabra?" Reyna shrugged and he snorted, "Great." He ignored everyone else and fixed his eyes on the man who had spoken to them last. "What's your name? Where are we?"

 

"My name is Bernard Croaker and I am head of the Unspeakables in England."  He ignored the weight of Fudge's glare from his ice prison. "You are currently in the Ministry of Magic in London in 1995."

 

"What the fuck?" A voice came from behind Percy. "1995?"

 

"Shut up," Clarisse answered sharply. "Who are the rest of you?"

 

"I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He gestured to the man in the ice. "That is Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and this is the lovely Amelia Bones, head of the Department o Magical Law Enforcement." He gestured at the other three unspeakables. "I do not know their names, and I suspect you really only wanted ours." He tilted his head, his glasses sliding a little further down his nose. "May I inquire who you are?" Croaker coughed pointedly. "And how you knew we were wizards?" He finished, making eye contact with Reyna.

 

"You don't know who we are?" Percy questioned, the tension in his body loosening a bit. "Do you know how we got here?"

 

"Shut up," Clarisse hissed, clutching her knives tighter. "Don't."

 

Percy opened his mouth to respond but before he could, another demigod stepped forward. "If you answer our questions, we will answer yours." Annabeth responded, sliding next to Percy. Her hand lingered on the hilt of her dagger but she did not pull it out. Behind her, the rest of the demigods were awake, slowly getting to their feet, all their hands brushing their weapons.

 

"Ah!" Dumbledore smiled. "A fair trade, I believe." He paused, his smile slipping off his face. "Would it be possible to lower the weapons you all hold?"

 

Clarisse snorted but Annabeth nodded. "Would it be possible for you to leave the weapons you have to the side as well?"

 

"As well as one can," Croaker answered, re-holstering his wand. He cocked his head. "Would you be okay with letting my men go, as they have nothing to do with this and were merely doing their job?"

 

"And have them bring back reinforcements?" Clarisse rolled her eyes. "How dumb do you think we are?" She shook her head. "Not a chance."

 

As Croaker opened his mouth to argue, Reyna spoke up. "Swear an oath." The eyes of the wizards and witch snapped to her. "Swear an oath on magic that no harm will come to us, and they can go."

 

"Very well." Croaker answered. "I swear upon my magic that no harm shall come to you on anyone's orders tonight." The crack of an oath echoed in the ceilings as the binding took place.

 

Annabeth nodded. "They can go then." She tapped Percy's shoulder three times.

 

He nodded once and withdrew the water from around the men. As they left the room, Percy pulled back the water from Dumbledore, Croaker, and Bones.  He arched an eyebrow at them. "Should I unfreeze him?" he asked gesturing at Fudge, a look of disdain on his face.

 

***

 

Professor McGonagall strode into the staff room, fuming. As a cherry on top of this terrible day, Ms. Granger not being aware of any of the dangers that time travel held was an incredible oversight. She did not understand how it happened or what it meant, but it was clear that someone sought to put her lions at risk.

 

She was so angry that she had not realized that her bun was slowly unwinding from the top of her head, sending her always tightly bound hair into a mess. She glanced around taking in the slack-jawed faces looking at her before huffing and turning away.

 

She paced back and forth three times before nodding once to herself and sitting. She would think about the time turner later. She turned to the rest of the staff. "Updates?"

 

"Hufflepuff is fine." Sprout reported. "A few of my wee ones were crying, but Cinzia Sewlyn promised she would handle them until I could get back." She smiled sadly down at the table. "We should nominate that girl for Head Girl."

 

"Noted," McGonagall answered as she turned to look at Flitwick. "Any problems with your charges?"

 

He shook his head. "Miss Chang was notably in tears but she has Miss Patil to comfort her." He sighed. "The tears were also not unusual, as she has been crying for days now." He shifted in his seat. "The real problem is going to be when they attempt to solve what called Albus away."

 

"Well, I've already let my Gryffindor's know that the letter bore the seal of the unspeakables." McGonagall said matter-of-factly. "I'm sure they'll come up with something based on that."

 

"Thank Merlin," Sprout exhaled sharply, "I too let them know that before I thought better of it." Flitwick nodded as well.

 

"It's completely understandable," McGonagall murmured, before turning to Snape. "Severus? How are the dungeons?"

 

Snape looked steadily at her. "They are fine." He inclined his head toward Sprout. "I also took the liberty of telling them of the seal of the unspeakables." He paused for a moment before glancing over the whole staff and coming to a decision. "I suspect that this will unsettle them. They won't come to me, however. The term has ended."

 

McGonagall nodded sharply, understanding what he wasn't saying.  Some would come back with real information, some would come back with false information thinking it was real, and all would come back believing they knew the truth of the matter.

 

She turned to the rest of the staff. "Questions?" she asked, noticing for the first time that someone had duplicated the letter and passed it out to them. Burbage, Vector, Hagrid, and Grubbly-Plank all shook their heads. Binns floated by the door, clearly not paying attention.

 

However, Sinistra raised her hand, "Should we expect Albus back in time tomorrow to see off the train? And if not, who will be casting the customary safety spells over the carriages?"

 

"If Albus is not back tomorrow, which I suspect he will not be, Severus and I will perform his usual duties," McGonagall answered, before glancing at the face Trelawney was making. "Something to add Sybill?"

 

Trelawney scowled at her. "The stars have shifted, my dear. I would fear for all of us." Hooch and Babbling exchanged a look, while McGonagall adopted a face of patience.

 

"Well, Sybill, Voldemort has risen, so I would expect that." She replied. "Any other questions?" She asked, glancing around the room once more. "No? Then you're all dismissed." At the movement of the professors, McGonagall slowly sat back in her chair, rubbing at her temples. This summer, she knew, was going to be difficult, and none of Albus' cheerful ideas could change any of that.

 

***

 

At the question, Amelia Bones sighed and spoke for the first time. "Yes, as he is the Minister of Magic." She reached for her wand before pausing as the children across from her stiffened. "I'm going to bring chairs into the room so we can sit, yes?" She waited as the boy with water nodded before continuing. "I need my wand to do so."

 

At her admission, there was a long silence where no one moved until the girl with the oath idea finally broke. "Yes," she said, closing her eyes in exhaustion. "That's fine but nothing else." As Bones summoned her chairs, the water slowly receded from Fudge's mouth and hands.

 

"This is an OUTRAGE," he immediately spluttered, "Held against my will, attacked by foreigners, no help from anyone," He shook his head before muttering, "Skeeter will have your heads-" before cutting off his sentence and raising his horrified eyes to the other three. At Dumbledore's inquisitive look, Croakers frown, and Bones' arched eyebrow, he immediately backtracked. "I mean, she'll be so interested in this story, and whose to blame her really," he continued, "Strangers coming through the death arch? Insane! Impossible!" He nervously laughed. "Well?"

 

"Well," Bones said, flicking her wand a final time as the 13th chair fell into place before reholstering it. "It seems as though you and I will be having a conversation about privacy and the press at a later time." She shook her head at him, before turning to Croaker and Dumbledore. "Either of you care to join?"

 

Croaker nodded as he settled into his chairs. Dumbledore frowned,  "I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline, as I am not here to make waves at the Ministry." He paused, peering over his spectacles at Fudge. "Let me know if I may be of _any_ other assistance."

 

Bones nodded before turning to the group across from her. "Sit please." The group hovered for a moment warily before a smaller boy from the back shoved his way through and sat down. At the sight, the rest of the children sat.

 

"Now then," Dumbledore said, glancing at Fudge until he sat down, "Let us continue with our trades."

 

The blonde girl who suggested it nodded. "I'm Annabeth." She gestured the boy next to her. "This is Percy." She pointed at the girl who suggested the oath. "That's Reyna." She glanced around the room before pointing at the boy who sat down first. "That's Nico." She paused, cocking her head at the group.  "What is the Ministry of Magic?"

 

"You only introduce four of your cohort," Fudge snarled. "What about the rest?" He ignored Croakers cautioning _hold on there_  and leaned forward. "I will not be made a fool of."

 

Nico snorted. "You gave us four names. We gave you four names." He cocked an eyebrow and rolled his shoulders. "You're already a fool, so we can't help you there."

 

At his words, Annabeth sighed and frowned. Fudge glared and went to grab his wand. As he moved, water once again encased his hands, and knives appear in Reyna and Annabeth's hands. The rest of the group tensed but no one else grabbed a weapon.

 

"You said no weapons!" Fudge yelled, struggling to free his hands. "Make the water stop attacking me! Cease this senseless violence." The group stared at him as he squirmed around.

 

Bones shifted forward. "Minister, you cannot go for your wand. These children have arrived here, armed and ready to defend themselves. You cannot fault them for their fear when you go to grab a wand. You must cease this - if you continue I will have no choice but to silence you. We are here to communicate legally and freely and come to a solution."

 

"Oh blast it-" Fudge spit out. "Fine, yes, I'll sit and be quiet, but you and I will be having words, Amelia."

 

Bones smiled at him. "That's fine, Minister." She gestured to the kids. "Let him go please." The water receded from his form, leaving Fudge glaring angrily and wringing his hands but silent. "As you asked, the Ministry of Magic is the place of government for the United Kingdom's magical population." She glanced at Croaker before asking, "Where are you from?"

 

Dumbledore nodded at the question before quietly adding, "Year, as well please."

 

"We're from America, 2018," Reyna answered. She shot Nico at glare at his cough. "Most of us," she amended. "He's from Italy."

 

"Fascinating," breathed Croaker. "Incredible. How did you get here?"

 

At his question, the group looked surprised. Annabeth wrinkled her nose. A boy who hadn't been introduced, leaned forward, "You didn't purposefully call us here?"

 

"What?" He asked, looking stunned. "No, we were only alerted that you were here when the wards were breached and an alarm was sent to me."

 

"Holy Hades," Percy whispered before raising his voice. "So you don't know how we got here?"

  
At his words, Nico snorted. "I know how we go here." At everyone's look, he backtracked. "Well, I know how and why we got deposited in _this_ room."

 

"Really?" Dumbledore breathed out. "And how did you?"

 

Nico jerked a hand over his shoulder. "The Whispering Veil called us through." He frowned at the looks of confusion from the group of wizards. "The arch with the freaky breeze?"

 

"We simply call it the death arch." Croaker admitted. "We didn't know it had a true name."

 

"It has a true name, and a true meaning," Nico said. "It takes people and brings them to where they're needed, whether that's death or an actual place. Not many survive but we're hardier than most."

 

"We?" Bones asked, "What exactly are you?"

 

"We're a mutated form of humans," Annabeth said, taking a deep breath. "I'm assuming that hasn't happened yet." Bones shook her head, taking note of the brief confusion which flashed across some of their faces.

 

"What's going to happen with us?" The girl who had kept her knives out the entire time glared at them. "I refuse to stay here, I refuse to be kept and experimented!" She took a deep breath, growling low in her throat when the black haired girl reached out and touched her.

 

"Well," Dumbledore said. "You can come to Hogwarts." At their blank expressions, and the glares from Fudge, he held up a finger. "Do you mind if we speak privately for a moment?" He shook his wand out of his sleeve. "I need my wand to case a privacy spell."

 

The group looked to Reyna, who inclined her head. "But only that spell."  
 

"Agreed," Dumbledore answered, casting _obvolvere_ , before turning to his companions. "Well," he asked. "Thoughts?"

 

***

 

By the time Hermione crossed through the Fat Lady into the common room she had been running for 5 whole minutes. As soon as she had turned the corner and was out of Professor McGonagall's sight she had begun sprinting through the castle.

 

She bolted through the door, ignoring the cries of surprise and the twin call of _Hermione_ from Harry and Ron, and instead spun to look for Fred and George. They weren't in the common room but Lee was.

 

She strode over, panting. "Lee, please, where are they?" Over her shoulder, Lee watched both Ron and Harry start to get up, both of them frowning at her.  
 

Lee gave her a strange look but pointed over his shoulder at the staircase which led to the sixth year boys dorm. "Second door on the left on the third floor." He looked her up and down. "You okay there, Granger?"

 

She paused for a moment, staring at him. "I think you're the first one to ask me that all year." She quirked a shaky smile at him and ran past him up the stairs, ignoring the curses of the boys who had just reached her.

 

She knocked on the door loudly, before throwing it open and slamming it shut behind her. The twins shot her a wide eye look before Fred got up and grabbed her arm and brought her to his bed.

 

"Alright there, Mione?" George asked as they settled on the bed. Hermione shook her head slowly, opening her mouth before bursting into tears and burying her face in her hands. Fred flinched back, turning a panicked face to George.

 

"Oi-" Ron yelled, careening through the door with Harry at his side, before taking in the scene before him. The look of anger on his face quickly changed to shock at the sight of Hermione crying. Harry sucked in a breath, gently shutting the door behind him and stepping around Ron.

 

"Hermione?" Harry asked gently, ignoring everyone else in the room. "Hermione, what's wrong?" She shook her head, her crying easing so slightly as Harry settled on his knees in front of her.

 

Ron crept over to George, nudging him over as she began to wipe her tears away from her face. "It's fine," she muttered, "I just- I got overwhelmed."

 

"And you went to Fred and George?" Ron asked incredulously, ignoring the glares he got. "Blimely, Mione, they'd only make you cry worse."

 

"No," Hermione said quietly, "They didn't do anything. I just-" She raised her head, brusquely rubbing her face clear of tears, and made eye contact with George. "What happens if a time turner is used unsafely?" At their paling faces, she narrowed her eyes. "Tell me everything."

 

***

 

"So, it's settled then?" Dumbledore asked for the fifth time in seven minutes, steepling his fingers, as he leaned back against his chair within their small privacy bubble. "They come to Hogwarts."

 

"Absolutely not," Fudge cut in, he cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at the group in the room. "They dangerous."

 

Croaker sighed at the man's panic. "Minister, please, be reasonable." He removed his glasses, cleaning them absentmindedly before returning them to his face. "They cannot stay here. Hogwarts makes the most sense- it's a large castle, with plenty of capable witches and wizards who are able to help them get attuned enough to magic for them to attend school in the fall."

 

"Attend school? For what?" Fudge snapped. "They don't- they can't be allowed to."

 

"And why not?" Dumbledore asked, frowning. "They have magic."

 

"Yes," Fudge admitted, "But they also are dangerous and have no control and are _American._ "

 

"They're going to Hogwarts." Bones said finally. "We'll portkey them out tonight." She glanced at the huddled mass of them. "There's a lot they are not telling us, but I cannot in good conscience let them be locked up."

 

"What?" Fudge said incredulously. "Sure you can." At the glares he received, he back down. "Fine. We portkey them to Hogwarts tonight." He pointed at Dumbledore. "I expect daily updates and at least some bit of testing."

 

Croaker groaned at the man, before looking at the Headmaster. "We can coordinate that later, yes?" He nodded to himself. "Now, we must break the news." 

 

***

 

Hecate shivered before the Gods as she stood in their throne room. "I have sensed a change in the magic structure within the world." Her words phased very few, with only Athena, Hades, Artemis, and strangely Apollo leaning forward.

 

Apollo flicked his sunglasses over his head. "What, exactly, does that mean?" At his question, Athena shared a glance with Artemis. Apollo was rarely concerned with the magical community that Hecate tended to. It wasn't any of their place to interfere in those with the blessing of magic.

 

Hecate shrugged slowly, attempting to find the words that spoke to the tremors reverberating around the London magic community. "I have sensed a change in the future."

 

"But is it a change?" Apollo asked, pulling out an arrowhead and fiddling with it. "Or was it always meant to be?"

 

"You're speaking in riddles," Athena said, tilting her head. "What do you actually mean?"

 

Apollo glanced around the circle, taking in the strange expressions he was getting from the others. "Nothing," he sighed, pocketing the arrowhead. "I don't -" he cut himself off. "It doesn't mean anything." He slouched back in his chair, flicking his fingers absently. "Just - what's next on the docket?"

 

Zeus rapped his knuckles against the arm of his throne. "Your words have been heard, Lady Hecate. If we need further assistance, we will ask you to return. Next?"

 

As Hecate bowed and turned to go, her fingers caught a small slip of paper. She kept her face blank until she had left the throne room, before turning and slipping into an alley. On the note was a date and place with no signature.

 

_Tomorrow, Athena's Temple, 9 pm_

 

She nodded once to herself, before letting the note slowly burn to ash in her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while. Lots of things happening in my life - graduated college, a sibling of mine graduated high school, my grandfather died, I'm job hunting. It's just been a lot. 
> 
> The greek is "They're okay, as far as I can tell. No external marks"
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy the chapter!


	4. I'm Out Of My Mind Most Of The Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demigods go to Hogwarts.

"I don't trust them," Clarisse said, as soon as it was evident that the witches and wizards had turned away. "Did you see the way they tensed when I spoke Greek? You have to admit that was suspicious."

 

Percy nodded. "That was weird but my concern is more focused on the fact that we're missing half our group. Could they have slid through another veil?" He asked Nico.

 

"I don't think so," Nico said, watching the veil, the curtain fluttering in the still air. "I only know what I know because there was one in the Underworld last time I went to visit." His brow furrowed, "though at the time I thought it was strange - Father doesn't add things like that often. They throw off the balance."

 

Annabeth interrupted. "While that's important, is anyone hurt?" She glanced from person to person before lingering on one member who had been suspiciously silent. "Thalia?"

 

Thalia tilted her head, letting the others see her neck and the healing slice that slid down towards her collarbone. She cleared her throat, the motion causing more blood to seep out. "I haven't had any ambrosia," she flicked her eyes up to meet Annabeth's. "So, either the Gods are still here or their blessings carried over."

 

"They're still here," Frank and Nico said in tandem, with the former blushing and dropping his gaze to the floor. At Clarisse's arched eyebrow, Nico elaborated. "If the magic of the Lotus Casino wasn't still around me, I'd have begun aging." He pursed his lips, "I'd probably be 50?"

 

"Okay," Reyna said, her voice firm. "Plan?"

 

"Wait," Piper said, speaking for the first time since she had woken up. "How did you know that they were wizards? How did you know any of this?" She paused, quiet for a moment. "And that oath? How-"

 

"I stayed on an island with Circe for a long time." Reyna interrupted, holding Piper's gaze. "I learned enough to recognize other witches and sorceresses and to know some of their tricks." She shrugged, looking around the circle, her eyes landing on Percy who was watching her steadily. "Honestly, though, I guessed."

 

Annabeth glanced over at the witches and wizards before inclining her head to Reyna. "We can discuss specifics later." She leaned into Percy, an unconscious gesture which had become habit post-Tartarus. "I say we try to go with either the Headmaster or the woman."

 

"Why?" Leo asked, frowning down at his hands, his eyes narrowing until a small flame sprouted from his pinky. "What about them makes them okay?" Annabeth shrugged but didn't answer, looking around the circle.

 

"I think Fudge is out for obvious reasons," Thalia answered, her disdain obvious in her voice. The snort she got from Clarisse confirmed her feelings.

 

Nico cleared his throat. "I think we should go with the headmaster." At Reyna's sharp look he elaborated. "If he's from a school, odds are they'll dump us there. If that happens, well, don't schools have books? Information? People?" He shook his head. "I've had quite enough of being caged for a lifetime." At his words, Percy and Annabeth flinched. He sighed, shaking his head, "that wasn't-" he cut himself off, looking steadily above their heads.

 

"Well," Annabeth said, after a brief pause. "Information is the most important thing that we need." She turned to Thalia, "Do you remember anything from before?" She glanced at the huddled group of wizards, before lowering her voice. "That lightning, right before-" she cut herself off, before continuing. "Was that you?"

 

Thalia shook her head. "It wasn't lightning." At her declaration, Clarisse and Reyna leaned in closer. "When it's called down, I can feel it." She wiped her hand across her neck, smearing the blood that was over her newly healed thin cut. "It was a mimicry of lightning, something else completely."

 

Piper blinked, sliding her hand slowly into Nico's as he sat quietly. The rest of the group had dissolved into low murmurs, with Leo and Frank adding in their observations of what they remembered before. Nico glanced at her, before squeezing her hand once. She offered him a small smile in return, and the two sat quietly, letting the first hint of safety and home seep into their bones as the demigods around them made plans.

 

***

 

Draco paced in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room. He had received only one letter since the end of the Triwizard Tournament. It hadn't said much of anything, and that in itself was worrying. Normally, he knew, his mother would send at least two pages of writings, though he didn't care for much of it.

 

The last time he had only received a small letter had been at the end of his second year. He had returned home, and his father had been banished from the house for a whole month before he had gotten back into his mother's good graces. He wasn't supposed to know that the banishment was over the possession of Ginny Weasley and the subsequent petrification's in school but he had always been good at listening in places he wasn't supposed to.

 

He also wasn't supposed to be aware of the fact that his parents had slowly begun debating their withdrawal from certain pureblooded societies. They weren't advocating for muggle-born rights, or anything so drastic as that, but, he had noticed that the tone at dinner over the summer and that the writing had changed minutely.

 

His mother had thrown a fit when his father had shown up back home after the World Cup with blood on his knuckles and fear in his eyes. Her anger at him had only subsided when it became clear that he had been coerced into something, and that he had fought to break free.

 

Draco knew, without a doubt, that the Dark Lord was returning. He knew that even though half the school thought Potter was an idiot and a liar, he wasn't lying about this. The Dark Lord was back and there was nothing that he could do. There was no escaping his heritage.

 

He just wished he knew what it was.

 

Theo stepped up beside him, stopping him from pacing anymore. He didn't say a word, just inclined his head to the door before turning and heading out of it. Draco nodded once, shortly, and breathed for a minute before looking around for Pansy. She was sitting in the corner, reading. Draco stepped up to her, tapping her chair three times as he moved past and out the door.

 

Since they were little, Theo, Pansy, and Draco had built a code. Growing up in cold, dangerous, and sometimes unstable homes led to the three figuring out ways to pass messages without letting those in the room become aware. They only had to make small adjustments when they came to Hogwarts. The three of them couldn't count on the number of times the code had saved them from visitors of their parents and occasionally from their parents as well.

 

As Draco exited the Slytherin common room, the chill of the dungeon set in. Taking a sharp left, he walked down a long hallway before taking another left. Picking up his pace, he clattered down two flights of stairs, entering into the lower levels of the dungeon. The lower levels were considered to be off-limits, both for classes and for those who lived in the dungeon. As such, the prefects didn't even patrol them, and even most Slytherins avoided them.

 

Rumor had it that when Death came to visit Hogwarts, he slept in the lower dungeons. The summer after his first year, Draco had asked his father, and his father had told him that he, himself, had tasted death and even if the rumors were true, he had nothing to fear. Still, that rumor of Death kept almost all the Slytherins from exploring. It had only been this past year that Draco, Pansy, and Theo had taken to meeting in them, and that was only because the Weasley Twins had started appearing around them whenever they had attempted to meet in more populated areas of the castle.

 

Draco came to the end of the stairs and took a right. He walked halfway down the hallway, past a picture of a wizard taming a dragon and knocked twice on the wall. The brick melted away, creating a small doorway that he slipped through. He offered a faint smile to Theo, settling himself down on the couch. Theo rolled his eyes in response, letting the silence continue.

 

It was only when Pansy arrived, three minutes later that they finally spoke. "Well?" she asked, striding through the barely open doorway. "Do you know?" She vaulted over the back of the couch, settling in between them.

 

Draco shook his head. "Mother didn't say if he was there, but I'm assuming so." His mouth twisted, the edges sharp. Pansy watched his face smooth out after a moment. She sighed, slumping down, and tilting her body so that she slid into Draco's lap. She slung her legs over Theo's knee's, the abrupt touch shaking all three of them from the worry of the future for a moment.

 

Theo laid his hands over her legs, the coldness of her skin a welcome reprieve from the warmth of emotions. He dragged his fingers around her kneecaps, pulling his thoughts together. "Do- Should-" he amended, "Should you go home?"

 

"Have to," Draco answered, his face wane and pale. "There might not have been a lot in the letter, but it was clear that I was-" he swallowed hard. "Expected at home." He settled his hands on Pansy's hair and slowly started stroking through it. "It's going to be bad."

 

Pansy tried to hide her flinch at the thought, but by the momentary pauses in both their movements, she knew she was unsuccessful. "I just-" she sighed. "Father will be pleased." Theo made a sound low in his throat. She turned her head, curling further into Draco. "I don't want to go home," she whispered.

 

"Could you stay with me?" Theo asked, scooting closer to her, and hitching her legs over his lap more comfortably. "I know that wouldn't be ideal but-" He cut himself off before he said anything further. Pansy shook her head but reached out her hand to Theo. He took it, squeezing it gently, and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

 

Draco exchanged a look with him, both of them coming to an unspoken agreement to run interference for Pansy as well as they could.

 

"You two are sweet," Pansy said, unfurling from her position and sitting up slowly. She shook out her hair, absently running a hand through it before turning to Draco. "Do you need us to do anything?"

 

Draco shook his head. "Can't do anything if I don't know what I'm going home to." Pansy sighed, and leaned back into the couch, pulling the two of them against her.

 

"Fair," Theo answered. "But seriously, mate. We're here if you need us."

 

"Yeah," Draco said, reaching out and tangling his left hand with Theo's. "For life?" He asked quietly, the other two's breathing almost swallowing his words.

 

"For life." They both repeated back quietly, settling further into the couch, and letting the others draw strength from each other. Attempting, for a few hours, to pretend that nothing had changed and that they were secure, even as they all faced down a summer that had the potential to change everything.

 

***

 

"Well," Dumbledore said, interrupting the plotting children. He amended his thoughts - teens, if not adults. Regardless of their age, he always knew the signs of a plan. "It has been decided that you all will return with me to Hogwarts." Next, to him, Fudge tensed, his mouth pressed into a frown.

 

"Sir?" Annabeth said hesitantly. "We don't know magic." She glanced around the group of them, before returning her solemn eyes to Dumbledores. "Can we even access Hogwarts?"

 

"What a peculiar question," Bones murmured to Croaker. "Why would-" She raised her voice. "Why would you ask such a question?" She focused on Annabeth but took in how the group shifted around her.

 

Annabeth shrugged. "There are things we cannot access because of our-" she paused, clearing her throat. "Our gifts."

 

Reyna continued her thought. "It would make sense that access would be translatable to magic, right?"

 

Croaker nodded. "It does indeed." He ignored the way Fudge shifted on the other side of Dumbledore and continued. "However, you all have magic attached to you."

  
"We do?" Percy blurted out. He glanced at Annabeth who huffed in response. "We just- we aren't used to that term being used to describe us." He said, backtracking.

 

"Really?" Dumbledore asked, peering over his glasses. "What terms are used then?" He watched the group shuffle in front of them before Nico offered up an explanation.

 

"They just call us mutants." He said. "We don't get classified." At his words, a look of surprise crossed one of the groups face. Dumbledore made a note of it in his head, as a potential pressure point for the lies. He didn't turn to look at Croaker or Bones, but he was equally sure that they were watching the group and noticing the discrepancies just as he was.

 

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "Regardless, we will be moving you to Hogwarts." He glanced at the watch on his wrist, "In roughly 5 minutes." He held up a hand at Reyna's opening mouth. "One moment, my dear. We will be putting you in an unused wing of the school, and you will not be able to leave it until one of the staff comes to get you tomorrow."

 

"So- we're prisoners," the aggressive girl stated, before snorting. "Figures." She reached into her pocket, pulling out two knives. Across from her, Fudge grabbed for his wand, halted only by Dumbledore's grip on his arm. He glared up at the Headmaster, who shook his head once. The girl spun them once around her fingers, before settling into a stance. "Absolutely-"

 

"Clarisse," Percy said cutting her off, his voice the coldest it had been since they had woken up. "Enough." Clarisse froze, her face twisting up into a scowl. The wizards studied the interaction, with three of them aware that the information that they had just been given was unintentional. She relaxed her stance, not saying a word and slipped one knife into her pocket. Percy sighed but didn't say a word.

 

"Well," Bones said, blinking at the dynamic. "you will be housed at Hogwarts, and providing we cannot find a way to send you home by the first of September, you will be joining in with the rest of the students." At her words, Nico startled. "Nico?" she asked, turning his name into a question.

 

He shook himself, glancing around at everyone before sighing. "We can't leave."

 

"What?" Everyone cried, with Fudge's voice rising above the rest. "Is that a threat?" He blustered. "What does that mean? Are you here to cause issues? What-"

 

Croaker cut him off. "Nico, can you explain?"

 

At the glares he was receiving from the rest of the children, Nico expanded his answer. "We can't leave," he repeated. "The magic has to finish." He traced an infinity sign in front of him in the air. "The only piece I know is that we have to follow through."

 

"Astounding," Dumbledore said, ignoring the outbreak of whispers that happened around Nico. "And you know this how?"

 

Nico frowned. "Magic is magic." He shrugged. "I know enough from brushes with it. What's done is done." He pressed his lips together. "I thought that you all knew that and were keeping it from us."

 

"No," Croaker answered, as Fudge rolled his eyes. "We were unaware of that." He glanced at his watch, before looking back at them. "I'm going to use my wand to summon a portkey." At their looks of confusion, he elaborated. "It's how we're transporting you to Hogwarts."

 

Reyna nodded sharply, watching his movements intensely. _Accio_ , he murmured, summoning in a metal ring with multiple kitchen utensils attached. He handed it over to Dumbledore, who used the opportunity to push the thought of a meeting tomorrow at 1 pm into his head. He nodded once, before closing his mind.

 

At the scoffs of the children, Dumbledore held up his hands, dangling the portkey from his fingers. "We will be using this to transport you." At the looks he got, he explained a little bit more. "We've attached a transport spell, so it will deposit you on the lawn of Hogwarts."

 

"You've got to be shitting me," Percy said, letting Annabeth's elbow catch him in the side as she rolled her eyes. "We're getting moved via kitchenware?" He sighed. "I can tell I'm going to hate this."

 

***

 

"Unbelievable," Fudge fumed, slamming into his office, Umbridge following him behind. He stood behind his desk, still for a moment before tearing off his jacket and throwing his hat across the room, where it was gently floated to his hat stand in the corner, the spells in place to take care of all tidying issues also gently bringing his coat to the stand as well.

 

Umbridge shook her head slowly, taking in the expression on Fudge's face before coming to a decision. "Well, you simply must have someone in the castle, someone who always listens to you, Cornelius." She tsked, shaking her head. "I wish that there was an easy solution."

 

Fudge nodded, "You're absolutely right Dolores." He tilted his head to the side, before wagging his finger at her, and muttering under his breath. "No one listens, easy access, if only…" He trailed off, shuffling papers through his desk before finding one in the center of his to-do stack. "There is this-" he cut himself off trailing his eyes over the page.

 

"Yes?" Umbridge asked, her voice never changing in tone, even as her eyes lit up with excitement. Her hands twitched at her side. She knew that what was about to happen was going to be her moment. She would find the power and seize it and actually do some good for the wizarding world for a change. She stifled her sigh at the thought of the current standing of the wizarding world. Mudbloods in Hogwarts? Preposterous unless they were there to clean. She knew stolen magic when she saw it. She shook herself, tuning back into the Minister, as he handed her a paper.

 

"Well?" Fudge said, smirking slightly at his undersecretary. "Standards at Hogwarts simply cannot continue to slip, and, as Dumbledore now owes me a favor, you will become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

 

Dolores scanned the parchment slowly, her face breaking into a smirk. "Why, Minister, it's almost like magic, herself, gave us such a wonderful opportunity." She raised her eyes to look Fudge in the eye. "I won't let you down."

 

***

 

"Holy Hades," Leo gasped, staring up at Hogwarts. "What the hell was that?" He glanced around, taking in the kitchenware that had sucked them through time and space and deposited them in front of a castle. Beside him, Frank vomited, startling everyone but Dumbledore and Clarisse into taking a step back.   
 

"Shit," Clarisse answered him, frowning at Frank. "Are you okay?" He waved at hand at her, coughing still. Dumbledore conjured a glass and filled it with water, his soft words covered by Frank.

 

"Here you are." Dumbledore offered the water to Frank. He took it gratefully, inclining his head at Dumbledore, before glancing at Percy. At Percy's nod, he took a small sip, waiting for it to hit his stomach before drinking more deeply. "Well then," Dumbledore continued. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

 

Beside Thalia, Nico tensed, feeling the brush of ghosts against his soul. He frowned, completely distracted by that while the others were astounded at the sight of Hogwarts.

 

"That's a huge castle," Percy said, blinking. "It doesn't make sense." He looked around, glancing at the stars as he sought to orient himself. "Are we-" he cut himself off, staring at the stars more intently, a frown stealing across his face.

 

"Yes, well," Dumbledore answered absentmindedly. "We have arrived on the great lawn." He extended a hand around him. "Follow me." He started off for the entrance of the school, the demigods hustling to keep up with his long strides. Thalia snagged Percy's arm as the group moved without him, though, at his low words, she titled her head back and looked at the stars as they moved.

 

"Sir," Annabeth said, catching up with him. "Where are we?" She clarified, "not like where where, but what country are we in?"

 

"Scotland, my dear," Dumbledore answered. He shook his arm, his wand siding out from his sleeve and snapping into his hand. He ignored the sudden intake of breath around him and focused on opening the entrance doors with a sharp flick.

 

Leo glanced at Reyna, trying to figure out if his motions were a threat or not. She shook her head faintly, letting Leo relax a little bit. Dumbledore ushered them through the doorway, walking quickly down the hallway. Leo tried to memorize the steps taken but he was quickly distracted by the moving pictures and strange staircases. Beside him, Piper also was taking in the sights with wide eyes. Ahead of them, Annabeth was still peppering Dumbledore with questions, with Frank and Nico following closely behind her. Behind them, Thalia and Percy were muttering to each other, while Clarisse took the rear. It was both a comfortable formation but also strange, as it wasn't Percy leading with Annabeth.

 

"Well," Dumbledore said, gesturing to a doorway, "Here we are." The group strode in, taking in the room.

 

The room was clearly made to be lived in. It was a round living room, stuffed with empty bookcases, worn couches, and soft rugs. There was a fireplace which had a roaring fire going, while torches hung on the walls. Across the room from the entrance, a counter lined the wall. On top of the scuffed wooden surface sat plants, a teapot, and a cauldron.

 

Equidistant from each other were four doors. Leo peeked in one, taking in beds and another door which he assumed led to the bathroom. He frowned, taking in the lack of lights before turning to Dumbledore. "Do you not have electricity?"

 

"Ah," Dumbledore said, watching the rest of them take in the rooms as well. "No, not in the castle."

 

"Great," Leo muttered to himself, taking in the clear absence of normal electric things that he was used to. "Fucking solid."

 

"Now," Dumbledore said, raising his voice to capture everyone's attention. "I need to know everyone's name." At the looks exchanged among them, he frowned. "Please do not make this difficult." At his words, Annabeth sighed and looked at Percy and Reyna.

 

Percy sighed back but stepped forward and slumped on the couch. At his motion, the rest of them settled around him, leaving Dumbledore the only one standing in the room. "I'm Percy," he said, "as you know. And again, we have Annabeth, Reyna, Nico, and, as I, unfortunately, let slip, she's Clarisse." At their names, he gestured at the each of them. "We also have Frank, Piper, Thalia, and Leo." He titled his head. "Do you have any other questions?"

 

Dumbledore looked back at him steadily before sweeping his gaze over the rest of the group. "Not right now." Nico snorted at his words but quelled what else he was going to say at Annabeth's glare. "However," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the byplay. "I do want to warn you that you cannot leave this wing until a staff member retrieves you in the morning. Attempts to leave will be dealt with." He paused peering at them over his glasses. "There are children currently in the castle who leave tomorrow at 10 am. After that, you will be escorted to the Great Hall for breakfast, and then we will figure out where to go from there." He nodded once at all of them. "Goodnight."

 

At their low murmurs of goodnight, he turned and swept from the room, letting the door close softly behind him.

 

"Well, shit," Percy said lowly, scrubbing his hands over his face and breaking the silence. "Anyone know what the hell is happening?"

 

***

 

McGonagall stood in front of Dumbledore, staring at him. "And you just-" She paused, taking one moment to check herself, before continuing, "invited them into _Hogwarts,"_ Dumbledore said nothing, watching her evenly. She shook her head. "And what of the Order?"

 

"And what of it?" Dumbledore answered. "They will be joining Grimmauld." He looked at his watch. "That should happen in about two weeks."

 

"Two weeks?" McGonagall shrieked at him, her glasses sliding down her nose. "You wish to invite 9 teenagers into the Order, who are from the future, and as of right now, we only know their names and that one of them vomits after portkeying?" She pressed her fingers into her forehead. "You cannot."

 

"I can, and I will, Minerva," Dumbledore answered, before glancing over her shoulder. "Severus? Do you have anything to add?"

 

Snape rolled his eyes. "As if you would listen to me, Albus." He sighed, "you will do as you have always done and damn the consequences."

 

"Now, I don't know if that's quite fair," Sprout said, setting down her cup of tea. She rose from her seat, going to the wall of books that line Dumbledore's office. Reaching up, she pulled down a slim book. "The Charter has made it clear that they were to be invited in."

 

"Damn the Charter," Minerva answered. "I don't even understand. That chapter was added last night." She drew herself up. "Albus, help me understand. Hogwarts, fine, I understand. Pomona has made it clear. But the Order?" She strode over to the seats and threw herself down. "Why?"

 

"Magic," Dumbledore answered. "There is something at work here. They are a key," he paused, frowning at her, "and I know you don't want to hear it, but there was a prophecy." McGonagall groaned.

 

"A prophecy, you say?" Flitwick asked, speaking up for the first time. "Recorded properly? In the Halls?"

 

Dumbledore inclined his head. "Yes." He gestured with his wand, unlocking a cabinet and gently floating a pensieve over. "Watch."

 

At his words, a ghostly figure rose from the swirling liquid. At the sight of a teenage girl, the four heads recoiled. "What-" Sprout began before she cut herself off as the figure began to speak.

 

_"Shifting time leads to shifting sand_

_The duchess of rage courts the prince of tricks._

_The kingdom of the future is taken from the past._

_Courts have arisen, as nine take their place among stars._

_Found within the dark, peace will rise._

_Death makes a mockery, but heralded angels sing."_

_  
_ The girl sank back into the depths.

 

"She's so young." McGonagall breathed. "They- I thought-" She looked at Dumbledore. He gazed back impassively. "I thought Seers couldn't have visions so young. I- they get torn apart, the visions seep into their lives and destroy their reality- I thought there wasn't-" She cut herself off at Flitwick's throat clearing.

 

"Minerva," he began. "while what you say is true, it's true only for humans." He paused to collect his thoughts, aware that the others were hanging on to every word. "There are those whose call for fate in all cultures. Goblins, for instance, have those they name Star-Seekers. Obviously, the Centaurs are another example."  He shrugged. "Maybe she wasn't human." He looked at Dumbledore. "Do you know, Albus?"

 

Dumbledore shook his head. "I have no idea." He folded his hands into his lap. "I shouldn't tell you this, but the way the prophecy came to be in the Hall was completely unusual." At the sounds of interest from around him, he continued. "Those who work there report that  the prophecy rolled across the floor and into a slot - one which had not existed before."

 

"Surely not," Sprout said, raising an eyebrow. "It had to have come from the usual pool."

 

"But," Dumbledore said quietly as if speaking too loud would summon the Seer herself. "It did not." At Snape's scoff, he elaborated. "Three separate people have confirmed this, and one was Croaker." He paused for another moment before continuing. "It happened 15 minutes before the children arrived." McGonagall pressed her lips together and sighed through her nose. "Nine children arrived, on the wings of a prophecy about peace." He shook his head. "I know that you do not believe in all the magic of seeing, but believe in this."

 

She shook her head once. "Albus, you ask for too much." The very castle seemed to shake at her words. She growled under her breath, before looking Dumbledore in the eyes. "Fine." The other heads breathed out a sigh of relief, hidden as she continued talking. "But one issue, one tiny small step-out-of-line, and you and I will be revisiting this issue." She shook her head again. "This summer will make fools of us all."

 

"Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore replied. "Doesn't it always?"

 

***

 

Myrtle frowned at the sense of dampness that had seeped into her form. Being a ghost was supposed to stop that. She hadn’t had a sensation in years, and the sudden discomfort had thrown her for a loop. In fact, it had startled her so much that she had ventured from her usual haunt to creep to the dungeon, finding her way to the classroom where Nick's Death-Day party had been held.

 

It was unofficially the meeting spot of the castle ghosts, though the ghosts who met up varied year to year. None necessarily passed on but sometimes years would go by before Myrtle would see some again.

 

She had been invited to the Death-Day party but hadn't gone until after the children had left. The Hunt had left a vague sour tinge to the room and she had avoided the room since.

 

As she floated towards the room, more and more ghost began to appear. She nodded to the few that she knew, the Grey Lady, the Baron, the Friar, and Nick among them. Her mouth twisted at the sight of Lady Agnes, the ghost who had welcomed her to being a ghost. She was the unofficial leader of the ghosts, though that was only because none of the House ghosts wanted the job.

 

The woman had always made Myrtle uncomfortable, especially since she thought she remembered seeing her a few days before her untimely passing. She knew that she was still a child in the eyes of everyone, even though she had been dead for 50 years, but there was something off about her. As such, Myrtle always tried to avoid her, even though avoiding her meant avoiding the other ghosts as well.

 

She looked away, scanning the grey crowd for someone to stand next to. At the sight of Peeves, she cocked her head and floated over to him, ignoring the mutters of the other ghosts as she moved through them. He was standing with his back to them, twisting a paper between his hands.

 

She peered over his shoulder. "What is that?" She asked lowly, eyeing his hands with jealousy.

 

He straightened, looking at her for a moment through the sides of his eyes before going back to staring at the wall. "Nothing," he muttered, the most serious she had ever seen him. "Somethings wrong."

 

She leaned in closer to him, ignoring the way her shoulder passed through his. "You can feel it too?" He nodded once tersely, and she opened her mouth to ask another question before she was interrupted.

 

"Alright," Agnes said, brightly, "We all know that something has shifted." She brought her hands together in a clapping motion. "It isn't quite as bad as how the dementors were, but still, something has shifted." Myrtle rolled her eyes and kept her back to Agnes along with Peeves. Agnes continued, "I'll ask Professor Binns if he knows anything as he is more aware of what happens sometimes."

 

"Did you see something?" Myrtle whispered to Peeves, ignoring Agnes' speech. "You aren't still like this, you aren't well, kind, like this ever- and I just, do you or well actually, can you-," she fell silent, becoming increasingly aware that her words were just tangling in her mouth.

 

Peeves frowned at her. Behind her, Agnes finished her speech. "And so, we'll reconvene in about a week, okay everyone?" At the course of yes's, Agnes nodded. "See you all in a week." She turned and melted through the wall. The rest of the ghosts turned, leaving together in groups or one by one until the room was empty except for the two of them.

 

At the steady stare of Peeves Myrtle felt embarrassed. "I just-" she sighed. "You call me four-eyes, and you made fun of my hair and you make fun of me with the water and I live in a pipe." She felt tears gathering in her eyes. "I was crying when I died and now I can never stop crying and I've been named 'Moaning Myrtle', and no one is nice and I'm dead, and children are cruel, and-" she hiccupped, tears streaming down her face as water began to pool beneath her. "Nevermind," she said, not bothering to wipe her eyes. "I'll go."   
 

Peeves said nothing as she left the room.

 

***

 

Luna shivered, standing in the grass, one foot out of her shoe, her sock damp with dew. She stood before the forest, watching the women twirl between the trunks. Her vision flickered, flashing her in and out of places she didn't recognize, taking in the faces of those whom she believed would join her soon.

 

Luna flexed her socked foot, rotating her ankle slowly. At each full circle, she blinked. She tilted her head, waiting. Minutes passed before she sensed him coming up to her shoulder.

 

"Luna," Neville said, surprised obvious in his tone. "What are you doing here?" He cringed back, awkwardly slipping on his words. "Not that you can't be - I was just-" He cut himself off.

 

Luna smiled gently at him, before inclining her head towards the forest. "I was watching," she said simply. She slowly slid her hand into his, stepping forward and tugging him along with her. As they moved forward, she stopped watching the woods, instead staring at her and Neville's feet.

 

Every step they took was met by the grass shuddering. She slowed her steps, letting her hand slip from Neville's as he entered the edge of the forest. She watched him step deeper into the shadows, before stepping forward herself. The grass seemed to strain away from her feet. She cocked her head and took two steps, before pausing again and staring directly ahead.

 

In front of her stood two thick oaks, each three feet wide. Between them, a woman stood, wearing a wispy robe the color of ash. The woman appeared to almost match Luna in appearance, with blonde hair and a fey-like face. Luna blinked twice, before offering her hand. "You have my nose," she added alongside the gesture, as she peered around the woman to look for Neville behind her. "Do you happen to have my companion?"

 

"No," the woman answered, forgoing the offered hand to clasp her around her forearm. "I just have you." Luna nodded once, before following the woman's lead and wrapping her hand around her arm as well. The woman smiled at her. "What is your name?"

 

"Luna," she said, pulling her hand back. She fixed her gaze on the oak tree to the left of the woman for a long moment before glancing back at her out of the corner of her eye.

 

"As in the moon?" the woman asked, curling a strand of hair around her finger before letting it drop, the ends of it brushing her collarbone.

 

"I prefer to think of it as in lunacy," she replied, before curtsying. "I have to find my companion, Lady Cinis." The woman laughed, before stepping to the side. Luna strode forward, catching a glimpse of Neville sitting on a fallen log, watching something else in the distance. She turned to the woman and inclined her head. "My many thanks."

 

"Maybe the moon watch over you, Luna." The woman responded before swirling around and vanishing into the trees. Luna grimaced at where she stood before spinning around and walking up to Neville.

 

At the tap on his shoulder, Neville didn't even jump. He didn't move, either, his eyes caught on the women spinning and dancing and laughing through the trees. "They're beautiful," he murmured, watching as one tossed water over the rest, and they all came to a pause for a moment before springing back into movement.

 

"They are," Luna answered. "But we have to go."

 

Neville shook his head, not listening. "Can't," he sighed, scuffing his foot into the dirt. He flinched back when his vision was suddenly obscured. He lifted his hands to his face, feeling fabric covering his eyes. "Luna?"

 

"We have to go," Luna repeated, pulling his hand away from the covering and tugging him up to his feet. "The Express." She said, before falling silent. Neville let himself be pulled along, though his heart told him to stay. As a promise, he reached into his pocket, pulling the Ash and Hazel tree seeds from within. He had stolen them from Greenhouse Four that morning before venturing to the woods. As Luna pulled him along, he let each seed fall from his fingers, telling the forest with every drop that he would return.

 

As each seed hit the earth, a small sapling sprung from the contact. Luna twisted to look, as they broke from the tree line, not allowing Neville to remove the scarf she had tied to his head. She frowned at the sight of the line of new trees leading into the forest. Next to her, still facing away from the forest, Neville suddenly froze before shaking his head.   
 

"What was that?" he asked her quietly, letting her retake his hand and pull the scarf from his head. She shrugged, biting her lip, and focused on taking one step after another, slowly speeding up the further they got from the forest. "Luna," Neville said, his voice uncharacteristically forceful, "What was that?"

 

Luna sighed, squeezing his hand three times before looking up at him. "An awakening."


End file.
